My love for pickles comes from my mother. She, in turn, claimed to have developed her taste from the domestic staff at her maternal home. Like many joint families of those days, they had a large house with a retinue of retainers. The head cook and the matron were from Bihar. Having lost her father as a child, she was their pet. They took special care of her, and she would often have her meals with them. Balaram, the cook, would bring back pickles from his village --like dried green mangoes in oil and chillies with mustard -- which she would partake with them. Bengali pickles are generally sweet -- except for a few like Aam Kasundi (Mangoes in fermented mustard paste). But my mother liked the spicy and tangier ones. Another of her favourite was Machher Tok, Mourola fish (anchovies) in tamarind sauce, which is not exactly a pickle and falls in the category of "ambal" that comes at the end of a traditional Bengali meal to trigger digestion. But I can eat a full meal with just that accompanied by daal and rice.
Later I would go during summer vacations to my aunt's house in Allahabad (now Prayagraj) and see jars put out on the terrace to mature. It was a wide range from mangoes, chillies, ginger, and lemon. But the most interesting among them all was jackfruit, which was a novelty for me. Beyond that my exposure to pickles was Panchranga Achar of Panipat with '5' printed in large letters on the label of the tin. A colleague of my father brought tins of it as gifts for friends from his trips home in nearby Ambala. What I found most exotic in the mix was slices of lotus roots that were not so common in Bengal. Then there were bottles of Gobi-Shalgam-Gajar pickle made in winter by a Punjabi neighbour. The only problem was it had a short shelf life. That suited me fine as it could be polished off fast. I would have it with chapati on returning from school.
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My serious trysts with pickles began only after I finished my studies and left home for a job. As a trainee manager my budget was tight. But a bigger problem was cooking. That is when I discovered Maharashtrian Lonche (the Marathi word for pickle). Praveen was a popular brand, I remember. I believe it is still around. To be honest, I didn't much care for their regular Mango pickle. But the Thechaa, which is basically lime and green chillies pounded together, was a killer. After a while I was introduced to dry garlic chutney with khopra (dried coconut shaving) and peanuts. It went well with daal and chapati.
However, I found bliss with Goan Prawn Balchao - which is the closest substitute I could get for rice and prawn curry. Over time, I learnt that there were two different varieties of Balchao, one made with fresh prawns and the other with dried shrimps. For me, prawns were prawns, both equally delicious. Whenever someone was travelling to Goa, I would ask them to get a few packs of local brands like Costa along with the mandatory bottle of Feni smuggled in the suitcase. Other mass-produced commercial brands, for example Ferns, available in city stores were too sweet for my liking. On subsequent visits to Goa tasted other seafood pickles varieties such as those made with Para, Mackerel, Sardines. But Balchao remains my favourite. Years later I got to eat Burmese Balchao. Quite similar. Made with dried shrimps, it is much hotter and drier than the Goan version. I have not been able to trace if both have a common origin or if it had to do anything with the Burmese King exiled in Ratnagiri.
I would put Goan chourico sausages (the Indo-Portuguese version of Chorizos) in the same class as pickles. It is one of the most versatile foods I know of that can be turned into a pulao, a curry, used as a filling for omelettes or eaten simply with pao.
I would extend the concept to dried meat pickles of the North-East -- also made usually with Pork and sometimes with Beef. Unlike North Indian pickles which are mostly eaten as sides to add zing to a meal, I think meat pickles were conceived as a main course by themselves. Both Northeast and Goa get heavy monsoons and it is difficult to source fresh meat. That is when the pickles came in handy. But the North-East also has their Chilli and Bamboo Shoot Pickles. The Dalla Chilli of Sikkim or Naga or Bhut Jolokia can send an unsuspecting soul on a galactical trip.
One can extend the theory to Kerala as well, which has its own range of fish and meat pickles. Indeed, they add clams, mussels, squids and shark also to the repertoire. Neighbouring Coorg, who in my reckoning were the original Gauls for their love of pork, make delectable pork and bamboo-shoot pickle. Punjab too has its own share of meat pickles. On the way to Shimla from Kalka, one finds rows of shops selling Mutton, Chicken and Pork pickles. But locals usually advise against buying it, being not too sure about the hygiene and quality of meat used.
No discussion on pickles can be complete without talking of Rajasthani and Gujarati pickles. Again. Rajasthan being a desert state where fresh vegetables were always a challenge, pickles had a large part in the Marwari diet. Chillies, red stuffed and green seasoned with mustard, garlic, ker-sangri are common, turmeric too is popular in both Rajasthan and Gujarat. In addition, Gujaratis, who love everything sweet, have their Chunda (sweet shredded mango pickle), which many Indian restaurants serve to balance the spices in the food -- much like the original Madras Mango Chutney that the Britshers loved.
Finally, a word about Andhra Pachadis and Tamil Urukay. The former have been better marketed thanks to regional brands like Priya. So, Andhra Gongura, Tomato, Garlic, Avakaya (cut Mango) and Ginger are well known. But none of them come anywhere close to the real stuff made at homes and available locally in terms of spice level.
A Bengali family I know, had just moved to Hyderabad. They carried some Bengali achar from Calcutta for the neighbours knowing that Telugu people love pickles. The next day the neighbours came over with some sweets saying "Mummy wanted to thank you for the jam you brought for us from Calcutta".
However, the story of Tamil pickles will take another article. From Chettinadu Samyal (probably a distant cousin of Malaysian Sambal) to the Mambalam Iyer's Thokku, Chutneys and Podis, the varieties are endless.
Usha R Prabakaran, a Chennai-based lawyer, has compiled over 1,000 recipes in her book Usha's Pickle Digest. Still, food anthropologists and scholars argue that pickles did not originate from India. It was the Tigris Valley people who first pickled cucumbers in brine, they claim. But wherever their origin, one can say for sure that no other country has as many varieties of pickles as India.